


Safe Haven

by Leenden



Category: Original Work
Genre: Furry, LGBT, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-29
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2018-09-03 02:39:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8693149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leenden/pseuds/Leenden
Summary: When Annabelle, an orphaned gypsy girl, decides to hit up an abandoned carriage aside a forest road, little did she know that her life would change forever. She was caught by the carriage’s owner, a strange gentleman clad all in black wore a strange bejeweled raven mask. Instead of turning Annabelle over to the sheriff, he orders his bodyguard, a very strong swordswoman named Grace to bring her back to his home.Expecting the worse, Annabelle is amazed to find a brand new world inside the gentleman’s Manor. It’s a Safe Haven to a society of women from every walk of life coming together as a family under one roof. Each has a story to share and they all have one thing in common. The strange compassion of the reclusive gentleman in the mask. Annabelle is drawn to the stranger. Why does he wear the mask? The answer she seeks may not be the one she expected or the one she really wanted to know.





	1. Follow the Rules

‘Quick in, quick out, it’s as simple as that.’ The lithe vixen’s brown eyes scanned the carriage that sat motionlessly aside the dirt road. Her short narrow muzzle tested the air; even among the dense forest, there were no signs of life surrounding it. She may be young but in her sixteen years of life, her gypsy parents taught her a lifetime of skills for surviving on the streets. Annabelle took a deep breath and pressed her back to the ages old birch tree she hid behind.

Her eyes drifted closed, giving her a moment of quiet recall. Everything her gypsy father told her came rushing back. His grizzled wolf face always wore a smile for her. A voice that was gruff and warm like cider on a cold winter morn. ‘Verify the mark’s worth. No use going after a mark that isn’t worth the risk.’ He spoke. Annabelle took another look at the carriage. The twin automaton horses hitched to the front of it told her everything she needed to know. With those things, the owner of the carriage was loaded for sure. It was well worth the risk.

‘Survey; and once you’re done, love, survey again. If there’s so much as a hint of trouble, bolt. It’s not worth your life.’ The thought of his suave voice made her smile. It was almost as if he were there with her.

‘Never take more than you can carry; needy is good, greedy is death.’ Annabelle nodded as if he were speaking right to her.

‘Thirty beats, no longer. If your heart is racing then it’s because something was going wrong. Run.’ Annabelle glanced back at the carriage one final time.

‘Without a trace, leave no mark. This is the most important lesson, darling. Your mum and I want you to return to us more than we want a full larder.’ Annabelle opened her eyes and sighed. The look on his sweet face soothed her drumming in her heart.

Annabelle darted out from behind the tree, keeping her body compact and close to the ground. Her breathing was in control as she quietly repeated the rules to herself. One of her hands rested on the hilt of her dagger on her hip, ‘One must be prepared for anything, no matter the messy fallout’. Her other hand was outstretched, preparing to snatch the handle of the carriage. It depressed easily in her hand and was as quiet as the hinges as she slid it open and slipped inside. Annabelle made good time. Her heart counting the seconds of her possible freedom, one…two…

It was dark inside the compartment. The midday sun did little to fight its way through the dark velvet curtains. Her brown eyes were forced to adjust to the change in lighting. Annabelle was starting to worry. Nothing of immediate value was in sight. Ten…eleven…

An almost ancient bottle of liquor was as good a find as any, she pocketed it. A small pouch of coins rested on a convenience shelf next to a set of precise cut crystal goblets. They were too fragile to pocket, not worth the risk. However, the silver candelabra that sat between them would fetch an okay price. Eighteen…nineteen…Still nothing as spectacular as she thought she’d find.

A single shaft of sunlight glinted off of something haphazardly stuffed beneath a throw blanket laid across one of the benches. Twenty-four…twenty-five… Annabelle held it up, a smile moved along her lips. She spared a second to admire the find. A golden locket hung from a lavish gold chain and was adorned with a single red ruby. It would fetch a high price for certain. Thirty…thirty-one…

“I’m sure your intentions were good but my master doesn’t abide by these so called routine stops.” A husky female voice could be heard from outside.

“I understand, ma’am. I wouldn’t have interrupted your master’s journey for anything less than an emergency.” Annabelle stiffened when she recognized the familiar voice of the county sheriff. They’d had many unpleasant run-ins in the past.

“Are gypsies that much of a threat, sir?” The husky voice asked; a hint of chiding amusement couldn’t be mistaken.

“Ma’am, these are not mere gypsies, they’re dangerous criminals. They’d a soon rob you, kill you and eat you without a moment’s thought.” The sheriff rebutted with a scoff.

Annabelle snorted, covering her mouth before she made too much noise. Keeping low she went for the door. She barely got it open before she saw a large figure leaning against the side of the carriage; close enough for Annabelle to smell the mellow scent of lavender and vanilla. Quietly she closed it back. It was too risky to go out the door; she’d have to try the windows on the other side.

Annabelle darted through the window, expecting to land on the ground underneath. Instead, she hammered into something solid enough to take the hit. A white flash filled her vision leaving her blind for a few seconds. She tumbled back against the side of the carriage as he fought to regain her composure. A few quick blinks started to recover her eyesight, she could see the sheriff’s deputy moving towards her right before she felt his strong arms wrapped around her, lifting her off of the ground. A sharp squeeze caused the bones in her back to creak; it forced that air from her lungs leaving her gasping.

“What have we here, Trent?” The sheriff beamed as he stepped around the carriage.

Following behind him was a large female hyena; Annabelle assumed she was the owner of the husky voice she’d heard earlier. Her green eyes scanned the small vixen pointedly. The bangs of her long orange Mohawk hung lazily over her face in such a way it didn’t obstruct her vision. Her brown spotted tan fur was a staunch contrast to the white silk shirt she wore. It hung slacked around her upper body. Her loose dark pants were tucked into her knee-high boots. Annabelle knew enough to know that her outfit allowed for a full range of motion. The rapier hanging from her hip told the vixen exactly why she dressed so casually.

“You know you can’t hold me!” Annabelle squirmed and twisted to break free. The sudden motion took the Trent, the deputy, by surprise; he dropped her to the ground.

The vixen tensed her legs and bolted for the tree line. She heard the cocking of a flint-lock pistol and expected to feel the shot. Something firm snapped down on the back of her neck, flattening her to the dirt. The hit has been so quick and concise that she was struggling to recover but it was too late. A strong hand gripped her dirty blond ponytail. The sharp tug urged Annabelle to get to her feet for fear of being pulled up by her hair.

In a flash, her bag and dagger were pulled away and a set of iron shackles trapped her hands behind her back. The sheriff was all too eager to finish the ensemble by snapping another one around her neck. Annabelle swallowed against the cold metal at her throat. She had no other choice now than to accept her fate.

“Master,” The hyena questioned as she looked to a figure dressed all in black. Annabelle craned her neck to get a better look. Beneath the hood, all Annabelle could see was a golden mask shaped like a crow’s skull. It was etched with smooth flowing lines and embedded with rich jewels of all different colors. A pair of crystal blue eyes could be seen from the dark eye holes.

“I’m sorry, boss.” Trent started but the sheriff cut him off with a sharp look of his golden eyes. A frown curved with the black markings on his cougar face. The deputy stammered for another second before deciding to remain silent.

“Sir,” The sheriff said, avoiding eye contact with the gentleman in black.

“I’m fine,” He spoke, his voice was quiet with a silky finish. “It’s a good thing she’s not that heavy. A hit like that from a larger mammal might’ve killed me.”

The hyena smirked, before cupping her muzzle. She cleared her throat as if to restore her composure. “Quite,” She took the bag from the sheriff’s deputy and opened it. “Shall we see what you lifted, my dear?” One by one, the hyena pulled out the items the vixen had stolen.

“There!” The gentleman in black interjected the moment he saw the locket. Quickly he snatched it away and cradled it gingerly with his brown fur covered fingers. “This…” He whispered but he couldn’t find the words to finish his thought aloud.

“Sheriff Bailey, escort this vagabond back to the city and see that she’s-” The hyena began but was stopped by the touch of the gentleman’s hand.

“Grace.”

“My lord?”

“She’s to return with us.”

“Not on your life!” The sheriff interjected.

“Hold your tongue!” Grace, the hyena snapped. “Your jurisdiction doesn’t spread beyond my lord’s words.”

“I-”

“’I’ nothing…” Grace began; again his gentle hand caressed against her arm halting her.

“Gentle, my dear Grace. The sheriff’s merely doing his job.” The golden mask shifted to look at the sheriff, the set of blue eyes beneath locked him in his gaze. No matter how hard he tried, the sheriff couldn’t tear himself away. “Sir, your assistance on this matter is greatly appreciated, but it ends here. I see…something special in her. She belongs to me now.”

“Sir,” The sheriff sighed before nodding. “I understand.”

“But Bailey,” Trent barked.

“Quiet, Trent. We’re leaving.” Without another word, the sheriff grunted and started off down the dirt path towards his own carriage set aside the road in the distance. The pair didn’t bother to look back, washing their hands of the experience altogether.

The gentleman in black turned to look at Annabelle, who was a little startled by what transpired between the stranger and the sheriff. She knew the sheriff wasn’t easily scared away from a quarry. Whoever this man in black was, he was no one to trifle with. Even with the large bodyguard that followed him, Annabelle predicted that he was the bigger threat of the two.

The figure in black tucked the locket away, his gaze never leaving the young vixen. “What is your name, child?”

Annabelle thought to be agreeable for a second but when she opened her mouth her fiery nature took hold. “I don’t have to tell you anything!”

The figure in black was unmoved by her outburst. He nodded with a smooth motion and started back towards the carriage. “Of that, you are correct. Bring her along, Grace.”

“Yes, my lord.”

The second the man in black passed, Annabelle lunged at him. Her teeth struck the dense fabric of his robes that hung loosely over his shoulder. He flinched but only slightly. The world spun around in a flash, fast enough to cause a lurch in the vixen’s stomach. Her nausea was brought full circle by a sudden sharp rolling pain in her stomach. She slumped against the hard fist shoved just under her rib cage. The air was forced from her lungs and it brought waves of numbness throughout her body. She braced herself against the large hyena’s strong frame.

There was an empty echo in her head when she heard the hyena speak. “You will not hurt my master.” Her voice rumbled like a death rattle in the vixen’s ear.

It was followed by the concerned tone from the gentleman in black. “Grace, no. She’s simply frightened as I’m sure you were once.”

“But-“

“Shh, my dear, right now she needs our compassion.”

“Were you not harmed?”

“No, she merely got my robe.” The figure in black chuckled.

The more they spoke, the more their voices drifted away into her consciousness. Annabelle couldn’t breathe and the longer she couldn’t draw air into her body, the more she panicked. The panic brought blackness to the edges of her vision, pulling her into darkness. The last thing she heard was.

“Thing for her are going to change, for the better I hope. She’ll need you to guide her, dear Grace.”

“Yes, master.” Was the last thing the hyena said before Annabelle slipped away into a deep sleep.


	2. Bright Shafts of Light

No matter how far Annabelle wandered, there was no way out of the pitch blackness. It only seemed to follow her around like it was her own shadow. Was it a dream? If so, it was the laziest attempt at a dream her mind had ever conjured. The vixen scoffed the sound echoing into the vastness of her own mind. “Wake up already.” She muttered.

Then it came; bright shafts of light that tore through the shroud like a freshly stoned knife through a loaf of bread. Warmth in the form of sunlight cut through the false (and very lazy) dream. It pricked her eyes closed again, causing a sleepy moan to escape her lips. When she forced them back open, the blackness was gone. All that remained was the eye stabbing brightness of the morning sun.

Annabelle lay among the plush mountains of bed cloths, looking around. Despite wanting to move, her body had no interest in getting up. Instead she lay there enjoying the cool breeze that tossed the lacy curtains. Dust motes danced in the shafts of light that painted the flower patterned comforter gold. Where was she? That should have been her first thought. Though it was replaced by another form of musing; one to the tone of, ‘I never want to leave this plush heaven’.

Dark honey colored wooden molding framed the walls. Light lavender wall paper added to the brightness in the room. Every piece of furniture seemed to match in style as well as the same color of wood. A floral bouquet sat on the end table beside the bed. Next to it was a beautifully crafted oil lamp. The amber blown glass complimented and clashed with the wallpaper, it caused an interesting effect that Annabelle had never seen before.

A shadow fell across her for a brief second and then went on. This was what finally urged her to move. It didn’t seem like a threatening shadow but she felt it should be addressed none the less. When she got up on one elbow, a surging pain in her stomach caused her to wince. After a brief examination of her white furry tummy with her black fur covered fingertips, it revealed that nothing was broken; it was merely a bruise from where the hyena hit her. One more push and she sat up. The comforter and sheets piled in her lap. Even with her fur, the cool morning breeze prickled her naked body.

A queer look came to her face as her mind finally asked the important questions. ‘Where am I?’ with the appropriate follow up. ‘Why am I naked?’

The answers came in the form of a soft chuckle that brought her attention to the hyena standing beside another bed pressed against the wall. She was clad in a simple night gown of a yellow hue. It was held up by two fragile looking straps. It allowed Annabelle a closer look. She noticed the bare patches of skin that littered the hyena’s arms and chest; scars of her past endeavors that worked to pique the vixen’s curiosity.

The hyena stood folding a pair of her unmentionables and setting them it on top of the pile of laundry on her bed. Her green eyes studied the vixen with a soft smile on her dark lips. Calmness radiated from the hyena. It was so strong, it even calmed the vixen. Annabelle shifted around in the bed, pulling the blanket tightly against her meager bosom. The hyena was not deterred from studying the smaller mammal; she picked up a shirt and placed it on a wooden hanger before hanging it on the rack above the bed.

“Where am I?” Annabelle forced out, her throat so dry that her words nearly turned to ash before they ever left her lips.

“The Duke’s Manor, in Oakencrest Forest,” Grace picked up a brassiere, haphazardly folding it. “You’ve been asleep for almost eighteen hours; it would be fair to assume you slept well.”

“I did.”

“Fantastic,” There was a pause, her face poised to speak again. “My master was a bit upset that I hit you. I…don’t know what came over me. I just got so angry when you attacked him. I’m sorry.”

Annabelle’s mouth hung slack. She didn’t know what to say. The thought that the hyena would even lead with an apology was unheard of. Her side hurt from the punch but it wasn’t the worst wound she’d sustained in her life. Quite frankly, the apology hit harder.

“That’s alright; you and your master were only trying to help. I was the one who reacted poorly.”

“Good. Then we can be friends?”

“I’m Annabelle Du Loc.” The vixen slid to the edge of the bed, it was so tall her feet didn’t even touch the stitched rug below.

“I’m Gracious Amir, but you may call me Grace,” The hyena held out a baby blue silk shirt. “I hope you don’t mind but I took your clothes when we got here. They’re drying on the line even as we speak.”

Annabelle had almost forgotten that she was nude. It was her preferred way to sleep, almost second nature to her. She took the oversized shirt and slipped it over her head. It was more of a dress than a shirt, with sleeves that were so long they engulfed her hands. Grace leaned close and rolled the sleeves up with precision, making sure to crimp the hem to keep them from unraveling. “Thank you,” the vixen whispered.

“I wish I could do more for you. I’m almost certain that none of my bloomers would fit you.” Grace laughed. She pulled a tightly woven cord of shimmering silver fabric from the small night stand near her bed, holding it out to Annabelle. “Tie this around you; it should suffice until your clothes are dry.”

Grace went back to the half full woven basket, folding the smaller items and hanging up her shirt. Annabelle did as the hyena suggested. The shirt really looked more dress like a dress with the cord tied around it. “Thanks again,” Annabelle turned her attention to the mess of a bed she’d left before trying to make it more presentable.

Grace walked around to the other side helping her to pull the sheets taut. “It does my heart good to have a roommate who’s tidy.”

“This is your room?”

“Our room,” A wondering expression came to the hyena’s face. “Or I’d like to think it is now.”

Grace tucked the sheet under the feather down mattress. Annabelle followed suit, the hyena’s words rattled around in her head for a moment. “Our room,” It was more of a statement than a question.

“Yes. This house may be big but we all have to share rooms.” Grace’s laugh came out more of a huff as she ran her hands along the thick down comforter smoothing the wrinkles.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

“Nor do I expect you to, Annabelle. But you’ve been granted a great opportunity and I, for one, won’t let it be squandered.”

Grace finished arranging the pillows on her side of the bed before going back to finish folding her laundry. Annabelle worked to match the pillow arrangement on her side before turning to assist the hyena with her laundry. The vixen thought on the words the she spoke and tried to rationalize them. If the place was meant to be a prison, it failed to be one. If the place was meant to hold her, she could easily escape, she had the knowledge. There was something else that trapped her now, curiosity; this was an opportunity but for what, remained to be seen.

“Admiring my silkies?” Grace smirked.

Annabelle had been so lost in thought that she didn’t notice she’d been holding the same pair of bloomers for god knows how long. A red tint shone through the white fur on her cheeks. “I…” The vixen laughed in spite of herself. There was no logical excuse for her ogling the silken underwear.

“I understand. I’m sure this is a lot to take in. All I ask is that you remain patient with me and the master during this transitional phase.” The hyena plucked the bloomers away and folded them.

Annabelle nodded. “I will.”

With the remaining pile of clothes folded, Grace put the stacks away in the dress, dropping the wicker basket at the foot of her bed. “Now it’s time for breakfast.”

“I’m positively starving.”

“I don’t doubt it. I’ve seen newborn foals with more meat on them than you.”

Annabelle scoffed, her blush only getting worse. Grace held up her hand in a peaceful gesture. “I jest. Sometimes I struggle with controlling my sense of humor. I hope you can forgive me.”

Again, the sincerity of this hyena took the vixen by surprise. Jesting was all well and good. That’s how the majority of her conversations with her father went, so taking a joke was easy enough. “Of course, I have to apologize for constantly putting you on the spot like this. I’m just-”

“A little confused, I’d wager. The lack of food isn’t helping either.” Grace walked through the large wooden door into the hall. “Come, we’ll get you stuffed like a turkey ripe for a feast.”

Annabelle followed. “I hope that’s not the polite way to say you’re going to eat me.”

“Not on the first date.” Grace snorted.

The vixen smirked, trying to ignore the blush. “Keep that up and we might have an eating contest on our hands.”

Grace cackled. “That’s very funny, vixen. Humor like that will take your far in this place.”

Annabelle took a slight detour to the wash room before they started towards the kitchen. The house itself was huge. The ceilings were ten feet from the polished wooden floors. The halls were wide enough for five wolves to walk shoulder to shoulder. Each door they passed was masterfully etched and crafted, polished to a deep honey color. Sections of multicolored woven rugs dulled the slapping sound of their paw pads on the floor. Half way down the hall the right wall opened up to look down on a majestic main hall a wood railing and common sense the only thing keeping them from falling.

“Thirty rooms in total available to us, Twenty-eight of them house the others that live here.” Grace explained as they journeyed towards the large staircase. Two flights led down to a large landing. A wider staircase descended to the marble floor of the main hall.

“Others?”

“Yes, there are others here like you and me.”

“I don’t know if I understand; hyena’s and foxes?”

“No,” Grace chuckled. “You know…others females? Some that lost their way, others that turned to crime for whatever reason they saw fit. Even slaves that were meant to be auctioned to the highest bidder have found their home in the flock of the master.”

“Sounds he’s running a harem to me.” Annabelle giggled.

Grace stopped in her tracks and glared at the vixen, her green eyes cold and hard like emeralds. Annabelle held up her hand, the gesture of peace now seemed to exist between the two strangers. Immediately, the hyena recovered her composure. “I apologize.”

“No, it was unfair of me to speak of a man I know nothing about.” Annabelle closed her hand around Grace’s furthering the comforting gesture.

“If there’s anything you wish to know about him, ask and I will tell you.”

The pair continued on, a door burst open left of them as a rather large and loud badger stomped into the hall. “…and I told ye not to use my scented oils without asking,” Her thick Irish accent hung on a higher pitched voice than Annabelle wouldn’t have expected judging the woman’s size. “Those things cost a week’s wage, ye git.”

A very short brown and white rabbit joined her at the door. “I just used a dab behind my ears.” Annabelle took a step back, bumping into the solid hyena that didn’t move. “I would have asked but I couldn’t find you.”

“Just a dab behind yer ears, eh,” The badger barked. “More like a bucketful for those giant things.”

“Ahem, ladies.”

The unlikely pair turned and looked at Grace, even the vixen found her gaze moving to the hyena’s face. “Well, I’ll be-” The badger said, her gray eyes were as big around as saucers, (if the saucers were meant for tea cups made from thimbles, that is.

“Another fang,” The bunny teased her smile so wide that her pearly bucked teeth shimmered in the dull light.

“Manners, long ears,” The badger snapped at her.

“Says you, wide ass,” The rabbit retorted.

“That’s enough.” Grace smirked.

Annabelle could tell that a word from the hyena carried more weight in the household. The pair both stood straight and quiet. The badger smoothed her pink tank top down over her thick body. It did little to hide her modesty, as did the scant pair of bloomers that barely covered her bottom half. The bunny, on the other hand, was dressed from head to toe in a teal pajama suit. Upon closer inspection, Annabelle could see a little white carrots pattern amidst the sea of teal.

Grace continued. “I would like to introduce you both to Annabelle Du Loc; she’s new to the family.”

“Please to meet you, Annabelle, I’m Lilian Kawajeing.” The rabbit chimed in, she offered a polite bow before snatching up the vixen’s larger hand in both of hers.

“And I’m Patricia McDonough, but everyone calls me Patty.” The badger took her other hand.

“The pleasure is mine.” Annabelle pushed her brown bangs back behind her tall ears.

“A vixen,” Patty mused through a toothy grin. “Ye don’t suppose-”

“No one is supposing anything, Patty.” Grace smirked. “We’re just on our way to breakfast. Will you be joining us?”

“Nah, we already ate. It’s time to start our chores.” Lilian said.

“Oh, what’s on the schedule?”

“Me, Lilian, and eight more are gonna gather veggies from the forest. Lucie has requested sweet tubers.” Patty leaned against the door frame almost blocking it completely with her size.

“That’s pretty deep in there. Make sure you take care and come back before it gets too late.” Grace touched the badger’s broad shoulder.

“Ye know it, chief.”

“Bye yeen, enjoy your meal.” Lilian shifted and skirted around the wide mammal in the doorway.

Grace nodded and started for the staircase, Annabelle stayed close. “Yeen?”

“It’s a racial slur for hyenas.”

Annabelle gasped.

The reaction caused Grace to cackle with her hyena laugh. “I tease, it’s term of endearment. Lilian and I have been close for years.”

“Oh,” Annabelle blushed again. “They seem…”

“Loud, rambunctious-”

“Nice,” Annabelle giggled. “I was going to say nice.”

“They’re good girls. All of us are; we all try to get along for the most part.”

“What do you do if there’s trouble?”

“Enforce the wide berth rule for one.” Grace chuckled.

They started down the stairs, the main hall opened up before them. It was something out of a fairytale. From the marble floor, to the grandfather clock, the relics, and the nick knacks from all walks of life. The hall seemed to have everything necessary to make a great first impress, decorative tapestries, woven rugs, shelves of polished wood, and a large chandelier to punctuate the fantasy feel. Annabelle couldn’t remember seeing anything this beautiful outside of a dream or a book.

Below, a pair of mammals gracefully danced around the main hall. An opossum led the waltz in time with music that only existed in her mind. The taller raccoon followed her moves masterfully. Clutched in the opossum’s hand was a feather duster while the raccoon carried a scrubber. Obviously the two were supposed to be cleaning the hall but surely no one could begrudge them a dance break.

“Ladies,” Grace addressed them in what seemed to be the customary fashion.

Without missing a beat, the opossum relinquished her grip on the raccoon and joined in an elegant waltz with the hyena. Grace fell in time to the music-less motion and turned tight circles with the much smaller mammal. The opossum relinquished her lead to the stronger female and the pair danced a few more sweeping steps before they parted ways and bowed.

“I love watchin’ her dance.” The raccoon whispered to Annabelle from the corner of her mouth before filling the chamber with a soft clap.

“C’etate magnifique, madame de Grace.” the opossum spoke most eloquently. She pushed the mop of natural salt and peppered hair from her face. A pair of red eyes gleamed in the low glow of the electric lights from the chandelier.

“La pratique rend parfait,” Grace responded but Annabelle couldn’t understand what she was saying.

“Oh mon Dieu,”*3 The opossum was practically jumping out of her clothes with giddiness.

“I’ve been practicing that as well.” This time, Grace spoke in such a way that Annabelle could understand her.

“Your pronunciation is beau!” It was at this time that the opossum noticed the vixen; she touched one pink furless hand to her chest just above her ample bosom. A smile, that almost showed all of her pointed teeth, spread across her face. “Une renarde?”

“Yes, this is Annabelle Du Loc.” Grace introduced them.

“Claudia Bellevue.” Before Annabelle could stop her, she helped herself to one of the vixen’s hands giving it a light kiss to her middle knuckle. “It’s wonderful to meet you, welcome to our home.”

Annabelle nodded her appreciation and gave the opossum’s hand a shake. Before she could take her hand back, the raccoon already snatched it up, shaking in with tight quick jerks.

“Rebecca White. You sure are pretty, Anna.” The raccoon’s drawl reminded the vixen of her grandfather. He was born and raised in the southlands of the Americas near the bogs. Most folks from down there were friendly enough, Rebecca didn’t seem any different. “Can you dance?”

“I can.”

“I bet you can dance as beautifully as Claudia.”

“I wouldn’t go that far.” Annabelle said modestly.

“Je paierais pour voir ca.” Claudia sighed dreamily as she hitched up her bosoms in her tan bustier. Whatever she said made Grace laugh. Annabelle thought it would be best to not ask. It was easy enough to assume by the lecherous look on the opossum’s face that it was something vulgar. Annabelle knew it wasn’t the first time and she was sure it wouldn’t be the last either.

“We’re on our way to the kitchen, care to join us?” Annabelle asked.

“Nah, we’re gonna eat later, after chores.” Rebecca tucked her hands behind her back; the simple green farmer’s shirt fell open to reveal a wrap of blue fabric just wide enough to cover her small breasts.

“More of a brunch thing,” Claudia chimed in, leaning against the stouter raccoon.

“Sounds lovely, you two.” Grace gave another bow before leading Annabelle through the hall towards the large set of doors across from the stairs. “Don’t work too hard.”

“Nous ne serons pas, mon amour.” Claudia blew kisses to the retreating hyena and vixen before starting back to work.

“Amour, now that’s a word I understand.” Annabelle offered a sideways glance at Grace. “Anything I should know?”

“She and I? Oh, no,” Grace cackled and shook her head. “Claudia is just an incorrigible flirt.”

“So I gathered.” Annabelle laughed. “Still…” The vixen shrugged in a pointed way.

“With an attitude like that, you’ll fit in just fine.” The pair stepped through the main arch of the hall and took a sharp left. Annabelle could smell something, several somethings to be precise. Savory scents, sweet smells, and a thick spice that took her right back to her gypsy troupe during the early morning. Her stomach didn’t miss a beat; it rolled and growled at the impending meal. It was so loud that Grace cocked a glance down at her.


	3. Pork with a Side of Beef

The inviting scents from the kitchen only got stronger the further they walked. Their journey took them through the giant dining hall. In the center was a table so large that with the addition of two chains; it could be refashioned into a draw bridge for a small castle. Forty-eight finely handcrafted chairs lined both side of it, with two more chairs set at either end. Each chair gracefully carved and assembled, complete with a green and gold patterned cushion, thick and soft to the touch. Like the other rooms in the house the honey colored molding was crafted with the same care as every other wooden item in house. The craftsmanship was remarkable by all standards but still wasn’t enough to halt the pair’s brisk pace. Annabelle promised herself a more leisure look around once she was full. They headed through a pair of freely swinging doors at the other end of the dining hall, it led directly into the kitchen and into the clutches of the alluring smells.

The first thing Annabelle noticed was how hot the room was. Stone floors, stone walls, even the ceiling was made of stone, all of them contributing to how hot the room was. The only relief from the heat was the large bay window covering the opposite wall. It was fully opened to a lush green garden outside. Two of the walls were covered from floor to ceiling with utility shelves. They were covered mostly with pantry items and other such food items. The remaining shelf space was taken up by cast iron cooking pots and utensils. Another isle of shelves divided the large room and blocked Annabelle vision from seeing what lay beyond. A large fireplace dominated the wall to her left. On either side of it were two matching stoves that were more modern in appearance. Both were covered with pots and pans of simmering liquids and sautéing foods that Annabelle couldn’t quite identify. In front of her just under the windows was a pair of thick wooden tables separated by a huge water basin.

Standing at washing basin was a rather thick and very tall cow washing a pile of vegetables. She hummed a low deep tone that at first sounded ominous but Annabelle realized the tune as an old lullaby she’d heard an innumerable amount of time, it always brought a smile to her face. To the right, the heavy sound of metal scraping on stone startled the vixen; she turned to see a huge door that looked like a piece of the open to reveal a dark mouth that lead deep within the stone. Through the steam another thick mammal came out carrying two armfuls of food. She backed through the door with a cloud of frosty steam following her as she came. It looked more like an illusionist final trick than a chef coming out of the cooler.

“Lucie, love, I’m all out of milk!” The chef had a very commanding voice and a thick accent. She halted upon seeing the pair standing in the doorway. “Oh my, we have company too. Welcome Grace,” The chef set her heavy load of sundries on a table next to the door.

A pig, Annabelle thought when she got a better look. Her long red bangs where pulled tightly into a bun at the top of her head. It accented her pierced floppy ears nicely. Rich blue eyes stared out among the pink flesh of her face, though her skin was soaking wet with sweat and bore a reddish tint from the heat. It did little to hide the constellation of tan freckles that dotted her face and neck, disappearing beneath the creased collar of her finely pressed white chef coat. The pig embraced Grace, a clumsy motion that threw the hyena off balance.

“Lucie,” The pig didn’t miss an opportunity to hug the newcomer as well. Annabelle was put off by the slick feeling of the pig’s wet flesh but was relieved by the soft scent of fresh baked goods permeating the sow’s clothes. A spicy hint of cinnamon buns caused her stomach to growl again.

“Oh my, sister Gracie,” The cow cooed, her accent sounded just like Claudia’s; obviously they came from the same region of the country. The black and white spotted cow, clad in the same style chef coat, wiped her hands on her apron before crossing the kitchen to join them. “It’s so good to see you. And who is this scrappy little thing you bring before us?” There was good natured tone in the cow’s voice as he rich brown eyes studied the vixen.

“Lucie, Charlotte; as always it’s a pleasure to see the both of you,” Grace offered fond glances between them. “I would like to introduce you to Annabelle Du Loc; she will be staying with us for a time.”

“A beautiful vixen is just what our family needs. My name is Charlotte Brathauer.” The pig leaned in for another hug, but Annabelle snatched her hand instead, giving it a firm shake.

“And I am Lucie, no need for last names. I’m never formal.” Her French accent said otherwise, “Have you met my sister Claudia yet? She would positively adore you.”

“Sister,” Annabelle asked with a crook of an eyebrow.

“Yes. Of course, it’s not by blood. She was the first person I mean when I left my terrible country. We’re sisters by choice which is a far stronger bond, if I may be so bold.”

The sentiment made Annabelle smile. “I’ve always felt the same way.”

“I’ve only known you for the length of a humming bird’s wing beat and already bonding over our ideals.” Lucie tapped the side of her head.

“And yes, I just met her in the main hall. She’s quite a treasure.”

“Treasure might be pushing it a bit far,” Charlotte laughed. “Endless flirt, if you ask me.”

“Mon Dieu, be nice.” Lucie hip bumped the much smaller pig. “She just has so much love to give.”

“And she keeps on giving.” A coy smirk spread across her lips.

Grace broke down into a fit of cackles, her stern façade broken beyond repair. “You ladies are just awful.” Annabelle laughed as well but she couldn’t be sure if it was from the jest or the sound of Grace’s spirited laugh.

“All’s fair in love and smut, or so I’ve been told.” Charlotte thrust her hands onto her rounded hips. “Enough of that, I’m assuming you two came for the grub, especially the waif here.” The pig gestured to the vixen that scoffed but refused to lose her smile.

 “Yes, everything smells delicious.” Grace said through a lingering chuckle.

Charlotte put an arm across the vixen’s shoulders and led her around the shelf in the center of the room. This one was holding a ton of fresh fruits and vegetables that didn’t need refrigerating. A large butcher block sat at the back of the room near an open door. There were a few not so well crafted chairs strewn about the table, obviously they were more for utility purposes. Charlotte offered one to Annabelle. “Take a load off and tell me what you’re in the mood for.”

Annabelle sat down and pondered the question. In her life, she’d only been allowed to pick her meals twelve times that she could remember. Only on her birthday was she affronted such a unique opportunity but oddly that rule didn’t exist here. Now that she was asked to choose so lackadaisical, the vixen was left wondering.

“What do you have?” She was so overwhelmed she could scarcely speak.

“Aw, look at the dear,” Lucie said, gathering a glass jug from one of the top shelves. “She’s shutter struck, apparently where she from they don’t let her to eat.”

“I agree; the little darling is so thin.” Charlotte responded.

“Two of the usual, ladies,” Grace sat down next to Annabelle taking her hand in a comforting fashion. Annabelle looked at the hyena, grateful for the save.

“We’re out of milk,” Charlotte said regretfully.

“I could always squeeze more for you, it would be no problem.” Lucie said happily.

“You don’t have to,” A hint of a blush found its way to Grace’s cheeks. “It’s not something that’s required of you anymore.”

Lucie’s smile widened. “Amour, as I’ve said a hundred times before.” She sighed. “Once upon a time, I was forced to do it but now it is my choice. These are two different things. Besides, if I don’t then we’ll have to make a trip into town. It would be as if I were saving the day, no?”

Grace ran her fingers through the bright orange heckle at the back of her neck. “I would love some but only if it’s not too much trouble.”

“Then I would love to give.” Lucie bowed her head graciously before heading back around the center shelf for a little more privacy.

Charlotte also took her leave, heading towards the stoves to start cooking. Grace let a soft a sigh slip, loud enough to bring Annabelle’s attention to her. A myriad of questions were written across the young vixen’s face. Annabelle was glad that Grace decided to answer the questions without making her ask. “Surprise! Milk comes from cows.” Grace was trying to be amusing but knew it wouldn’t be enough to quell the questions her new friend had. “Lucie is from a dairy plantation.”

“That’s-”

“Yeah, that’s where young female cows are forced into harvest. Free room and board but there’s never enough food or beds to go around in those types of places. At least not in the one where she was kept. At the one master and I found her in, they could never leave. Nor could they have families. Their breeding was sanctioned only for purpose of keeping the numbers up. This plantation had only one well-kept males, who lived in the lap of luxury while ensuring that his female children lived in misery. Baby girls were kept; baby boys are sold into slavery. ” Grace nervously twiddled her thumbs.

“That’s awful. I may never drink milk again.”

“Now not all milk production is run that way. In this country, it’s closely regulated. Cows are employed, given wages, and can come and go as they please. They have their own lives to live and are free to pursuit other jobs if they choose. But in Lucie’s case, she was born and raised into that life.” Grace leaned back in her chair looking up at the ceiling.

“What happened?”

“She’s young, maybe a little older than you. One day, she just dried up for no reason. For a week they forced her into the harvesting machine but she wasn’t producing anything. No one knows what really caused it, but Dr. Gilda suspects she had a nervous breakdown that became just as physical as it was mental.” Grace looked back at Annabelle, who must have been wearing a look.

“If master hadn’t come when he did, they would have sent Lucie to the butchers.” Annabelle’s ears fell back. It was an unpleasant thought but the vixen knew that meat was just a fact of life in this society. That’s why the adage of never take more than you give was so enforced. Annabelle ate meat; as did all omnivores and carnivores but once put into that kind of perspective, it left her wishing she didn’t. A diet change might be in her near future.

“Charlotte’s story isn’t much different.” Grace motioned to the pig at the stoves.

“She’s right.” Charlotte added. “Germany has a long tradition of meat mills. Like many cows and sows that live in my country. If you live to be the ripe old age of thirty and haven’t married or produced children, then your family sells you to a meat mill. My father was all too eager to send me away for the amount offered. Once there, they start fattening them up for the slaughter.” Charlotte dropped a large handful of grape tomatoes in a pan with a sizzle.

“That’s terrible, how did you get away?” Annabelle was starting to feel less hungry by the second.

“I traded a quick roll in the cot with this young boar guard in return for a chance to escape in the night,” Charlotte stated candidly. “It didn’t go unnoticed though. They chased me into the woods, I managed to take out a few of them but what good is an overstuffed sow against a lean mean army? They had me on all fours in the woods and just as the soldiers were about to shiv my throat, low and behold; Grace came to my rescue.”

“Lucky for you, master forced me to take a relaxing vacation.” The hyena cackled.

“Lucky indeed,” Lucie was doing up the clasps at the front of her shirt. “If it hadn’t been for you, I’d never have met the love of my life.”

It wasn’t until then that Annabelle noticed the fine golden band around the cow’s ring finger. How she’d missed the gleam against the black fur was beyond her. The vixen had n knack for sensing expensive things. Whether it was taught to her by her folks or bred into her was unknown. She could find a golden needle in a haystack with little effort. She assumed that being in the strange surroundings left her more out of sorts than even she realized.

The cow walked over and placed a peck to the back of the pig’s neck. “Stop that!” The pig glared up at her. “I’m all sweaty.”

“I don’t know if I’ve ever told you this, amour, but cows love salt. They used to give of us huge bricks of it when I was back on that plantation. It was the highlight of my day.” The cow giggled and started helping the pig cook.

Annabelle smiled in spite of the vulgar images that tried to force their way into her mind. With a quick shake of her head, she turned her attention back to the hyena, which bore a solemn look on her face. “So you saved her?”

“I was camping in the woods outside of what I thought was the city. Then I was drawn to the sounds of a commotion. When I saw what was happening, something seemed to take over me. I threw myself at them and couldn’t stop until Charlotte was holding me. It wasn’t until-” Grace stopped talking when Lucie set a plate full of fresh fruits and cream on the table between them.

“There’s more where this came from, dears.” She teased and went back to assisting the Charlotte.

Instead of continuing her story, the hyena helped herself to some fruit, Annabelle followed suit. The crisp apple slice with a small dollop of the lightly sweetened cream popped in her mouth, causing an explosion of saliva. Her body surged with a gluttonous thirst to eat as much as she could but her manners and common courtesy kept her from pigging out on the shared platter.

Just outside, Annabelle could smell the flowers from the garden; they added freshness to the already immaculate smelling food. The scent and the cool breeze helped the fruit go down easily to settle in her stomach. She looked back at Grace; the hyena was a million miles away. Annabelle knew that look; she’d seen it a thousand times on her parent’s faces. She was certain she’d worn the same look a few times herself. It was the look of someone lost in their own mind. Memories or musings, it didn’t matter, both had the ability to trap.

Grace snapped out of it the moment she heard both plates being set on the table before them. Each platter was filled to the brim with goodies; a set of fried eggs with the sunshine showing amidst a sea of white, crispy potatoes, and a pile of lightly sautéed onions and tomatoes in a wine sauce. The chefs both made another trip. Charlotte brought a plate of freshly baked oat muffins and a dish of churned butter. Lucie brought a tray of drinks. There was water, orange juice, and milk but she went a little further to bring a kettle of tea as well. Annabelle had never seen so much food presented for only two people in her life. This would be enough to feed her entire family for the night. Guilt bubbled in her gut but it still wasn’t strong enough to stave off her hunger.

“This is quite the spread, ladies.” Grace cocked an eyebrow as she draped her napkin across her lap.

“It’s because we have company.” Lucie giggled.

“We want her to like us.” Charlotte added. “I figure, if she likes us, she might stick around.”

Annabelle, once again, felt as though she was being put on the spot. “This looks so wonderful, how could I ever leave?”

The pair giggled and bowed. Lucie whispered ‘bon appetite’ before they went back to stove to let the pair dine in privacy. “They’re so…” Annabelle whispered, tucking her napkin in the hem of her borrowed shirt. “Perfect.”

“Couldn’t have said it better myself.” Grace whispered back, pouring a steamy cup of dark tea for the both of them. She gestured to the cubes of sugar. Annabelle held up three fingers which the hyena obliged. Then she offered a tiny ting with the silver tongs against a small pitcher of fresh cream. Annabelle nodded and watched as Grace served her cup of tea to her. They carried on in this fashion for a while. Eating and drinking in quiet companionship. It was a breathtaking experience that the young vixen would never forget. In truth, neither would the hyena.


	4. A Hyena Like You

After breakfast, Grace escorted Annabelle back upstairs to the same wash room she’d stopped by earlier. A polished wooden tub sat in the corner; it was large enough to comfortably seat four people. A simple slatted, wooden divider sat next to it, creating a private nook were the toilet sat. In the corner of the room next to the door was a step up to the washing platform. Polished wood slats were set over a drainage pit just under three small showerheads. Annabelle had only heard about the modern bathroom outlets from gossiping women in town, she never actually seen them before. A myriad of tiny shelves littered the wall on the opposite side. They were covered with bottles, containers, and other bathing items. A large shelving unit next to the door housed freshly folded towels and other linens. Several basin sinks lined the wall under the shelves and a long mirror. The place itself looked luxurious to someone who bathed in rivers and did their business behind bushes.

“As you can imagine, there are rules to how things are handled in here. You have to share the bathrooms. I know it’s an unpleasant thought, but there are ten usable bathrooms for over fifty people.” Grace explained.

“No problem there, I usually just wash up in a stream with my family watching. I’m not that shy about it.” Annabelle chuckled, as she looked through some of the beautiful bottles on the shelves.

“Excellent, then we’ll have no problems.” Grace pulled a long silk scarf down from a hook next to the shelving unit. Annabelle watched her tie it around the outside handle on the door. “Let’s say you do want some alone time, I mean who doesn’t? All you have to do is tie this scarf around the door handle. It’ll let everyone know that this bathroom is in use by someone who wants privacy. Try to be respectful and limit your alone time to under a half hour. If you do that than everyone’s pretty good about respecting other’s wishes around here.”

“Is everything in here up for grabs?”

“Not without permission.” Grace picked up a bottle of light pink liquid and held it out to Annabelle. “Each of these bottles should have a tag on them telling you who they belong to. It’s just polite to ask or else you end up with the situation with Patty and Lilian.” As stated there was a tag hanging from the neck of the bottle. In beautiful penmanship it read ‘Grace’. “Before you ask, you’ll always have my permission to use my stuff just tell me when I run out of something.”

“I appreciate that.” Annabelle lifted the stopper for a sniff. The soft linger scent of rose tickled her nose. “That’s beautiful. So, I just put a drop of this in the bathtub when it’s filling up?

“No,” Grace smiled. “First you shower, then you soak, it’s a rule.” The hyena knelt down next to the tub and played with a set of dials built onto the side of a metal box. Annabelle was surprised that she missed the device entirely. When the hyena was done, nothing happened, not even a sound.

Curiosity took hold of the smaller vixen. “What did you do?”

“These are the heat controls for the tub. It heats the water inside. First one turns it on in the morning; last one turns it off at night. Whoever used the washroom earlier forgot to set it up.”

“There’s water still in there?” Annabelle lifted the wooden lid. The tub was filled with mint scented water.

“It would be way too expensive to refill the tubs every day. So, once a week someone is put in charge of draining them, scrubbing them, and refilling them. They’re also the ones who get to choose the scent of the week. Patty was the winner this week.” Grace grunted and got to her feet.

“Amazing,” Annabelle took a closer look at the device.

“Yes, they’re fairly new to the castle, only three years now. The master paid someone to install them throughout the castle. It was a disaster. Can you imagine fifty people sharing one bathroom? I personally went days without showering because the line was too long. However I helped the flowers bloomed immaculately that year.” Grace chuckled as she reached up to grab a tall green bottle from the top shelf.

The joke caught Annabelle by surprise, making her snort. “Oh jeez,”

“Don’t be embarrassed, dear. Pissing in the bushes is what our forefathers did. I just adopted their ways for a while.”

Annabelle got to her feet just as Grace was stripping out of her nightgown. “Oh,”

“I…thought it would be alright if I joined you.” Grace pulled the wad of clothes tight to her surprisingly small bosom.

“No, no it’s fine. It just took me by surprise.” Annabelle had seen grown women naked before. Privacy wasn’t something the gypsy family practiced. There just wasn’t enough opportunities for it.

“There are things you may not know about hyena females-”

Annabelle interrupted with a giggle. “No, no. I am fully away of female hyena anatomy. Uncle Uhn is a hyena and he’s very open about the stories of his homeland.”

“That’s a load of my mind,” Grace cackled. “I’ve told this tale more times than anyone should in a life. Now strip your clothes off here, they’ll be picked up day after tomorrow, washed, dried, and set aside for you to retrieve from the washroom in the basement.” Grace tossed her clothes in a wicker basket that sat under the shelving unit. “If you’re busy and don’t have time to fold and put away your laundry. Those responsible for the laundry that day might do it for you but remember, that type of kindness is a two way street. You may be called upon to do the same for them.”

Annabelle slipped out of her borrowed shirt. “I want to put this back on when I’m done, it’s not dirty yet.”

“There are hooks on the back of the door, dear.”

Grace grabbed a set of wooden buckets from the edge of the shower stand, turning them both upside down before sitting on one. “There’s a sponge hanging from the hook near the tub, will you grab it for me.” Annabelle nodded and did as she was told before joining Grace on the wooden platform.

“Thank you,” Grace took the sponge. “No doubt you noticed the shower heads are low on the wall? Turns out, copper pipes are outrageously expensive, so the master took a que from our Oriental sister, Lilian.” Grace patted the top of the other bucket with a thump. “All you do is sit to shower.”

Annabelle sat down and reached for a small red valve on the wall, when she touched it. Grace grabbed her hand quickly enough to startle her. “Never that one,” The vixen turned to look at her. “This is the temp valve. It regulates the flow of hot water into this bathroom. Each individual shower has its own on and off switch that controls how much heat you get from the nozzle. Messing with this one valve could cause serious harm to yourself or one of the other ladies.”

“No touching,” Annabelle wore a nervous smirk.

“No touching, indeed.” Grace reached up and turned on her shower head, bristling at the first burst of cold water that hit her. “The first few seconds are grueling,” Her teeth chattered as she spoke. “But it adjusts quickly.” Even before she finished talking, steam already started rolling up.

Annabelle reached up and turned her water on as well. The cold water brought a desperate yelp from her lips. It cut straight through her summer coat like a knife through butter. It chilled her to the bone, as promised, a low heat started to rise until the water was almost perfect. A little warmer than Annabelle liked it but fear of being frozen again kept her from making another adjustment.

“Hygiene is very important around here,” Grace put her head under the water and ruffled her orange Mohawk with one hand. “You don’t have to bathe every day; every other day or every three days is fine. Some chores leave you filthy; in that case you must shower. I’ll go over the chore schedule with you later.”

Annabelle could barely hear her over the water rushing through her hair and over her ears. Where she came from, there were no warm showers or warm beds. There weren’t sweet smelling soap or perfumes. This was an entirely different world to her; one that she was starting to enjoy, even if she felt a little out of place.

A warm scent of pine needles filled the air, pulling Annabelle back from her thoughts. The small vixen sat back wiping the water from her eyes. Grace sat across from her, giving herself a vigorous lathing. The bubbles were thick with a green tint to them. The hyena focused her attention on her more private areas before working on her arms, shoulders, and neck.

“Pine soap,” Grace said with a wide grin, her eyes still shut. “It delouses and cleans, added bonus, it has the best scent of anything of the ilk on the market. If you choose, you can use a different soap but you must wash with a delousing solution at least once a month. I just do it every time I wash because the stuff is cheap and smells fine to me.”

“It’s better than what I’m used to, that’s for sure.” Annabelle tried to stifle her shameful blush. She’d never deloused a day in her life. Creepy crawlies in the fur was just second nature.

“Don’t be alarmed, it tingles when you use it.” Grace turned her attention to her hair, washing herself savagely with the green suds.

“That means its working?” Annabelle commented as she poured a large handful, she could already feel her skin crawling as the bugs were moving away from the solution.

“You have fleas don’t you?” Grace giggled.

“What?”

“I can tell by the pinched look on your muzzle. There’s no need to be shy about it, we’ve all had them. That’s why these rules are in place, to keep yourself and everyone safe.” Grace leaned over and started working her large hands along Annabelle’s shoulders. The small vixen tensed up at first, more from the scrambling vermin that were running races on her skin. “Start high and work your way down.”

Annabelle did as she was told, giving her hair a vigorous scrub as she’d seen Grace too. The hyena worked down along her arms and chest, purposefully avoiding her more personal areas. The notion that Grace was so respectful and would endure this embarrassment with her made the vixen’s heart swell in her chest. This hyena was unlike any of the stories her Uncle had told her.

Grace finished scrubbing every last inch of Annabelle’s luxurious tail while the vixen finished washing her face before she excitedly dipped under the water. Grace ran a fine tooth comb down Annabelle’s back. “Did you get your…private areas well enough?”

“I did,” The vixen sucked air in through her pointed teeth while working to scrub the suds out of her fur. “I itch and tingle and everything just feels awful.” Her voice sounded desperate and young, more her age than she liked it to.

“It’s for the best though.” Grace swept away more and more of the dead black specks. “I recommend you wash just like this the next few days. If you’re still having troubles, I’ll send you to Dr. Gilda, she may have something a little stronger.”  
Once Annabelle was fully combed and rinsed. Grace took care of rinsing herself off. Only a few of Annabelle’s visitors made it over to the hyena and they were easily dealt with. “Sorry if I infested you.” The vixen said shyly.

“It happens.” Grace smiled at her sheepishly. “You have nothing to be sorry about.”

“How are you so nice?”

“Excuse me?”

“Uncle Uhn told me-”

“Female hyenas are evil?” Grace smirked.

“Among other things,”

“We are; in our society, the females rule. Any self-respecting mother would bare one male and multiple females. That’s just the order of things. My mother however, was the worst of them. She was the reason I left my home at a young age.” Grace did another run of rinsing as she talked. “I was the first born; a strong female for my mother to lord over the others. It didn’t sit well with the tribe. Another female challenged my mother and placed a curse on her. She would only bore boys from there on out. Thus she did.”

“I’m skeptical that a curse could be the cause.”

“You have a lot to learn then.” Grace chuckled. “Still, my mother bore three sons over the course of the next three years. She cast out the first one, murdered the other two. Her rage turned her on my father, a sweet man, only a few males were sweeter than he. She killed him. I was only six at the time and watched it happened before my very eyes.”

“Oh my god,” Annabelle gasped.

Grace turned the water off and went for a towel. “It only got worse from there. Ten male children later, three husbands more, all murdered in a fit of rage. By then I was fourteen and had seen enough bloodshed in my life to sustain me forever.” Annabelle turned her faucet off and remained seated, listening to the story.

“I had to leave,” Grace continued. “My mother caught me trying to flee the village and attacked me. She knew that if I left, her legacy as matron mother was over. In the scuffle, I killed her.”

Annabelle covered her mouth to stifle another gasp, though her eyes already betrayed what she was thinking. Grace’s round ears drooped. “I’m not proud of what I did but in the heat of it all; it was either her or me.”

“What happened then?”

“I was arrested and charged with regicide. To be killed by the end of the moon cycle.” Grace started drying off, taking her time to squeeze the water from her hair.

“How did you get away?”

“A fresh faced fox, the young master, rescued me; made a deal with the hyena that put the curse on my mother. She set me free in the night with enough money and provisions to get to the coast.”

 “And you’ve been with him ever since?”

“No, I lived on my own for many years, actively hunting him down. I wanted to thank him for all he’d done, but I didn’t even know what nation he hailed from.”

“How did you find him?”

“I didn’t, it wasn’t until I was much older and landed into another spot of trouble. He and his wife came to my rescue. This time, he seemed different; older beyond his years and still handsome as a spring morning. I followed and he told me to go. I refused to let him go this time. I told him I would follow him until the end.” There was a passionate edge to the way Grace was speaking now as if she were giving a speech before a big battle. “He said that in his travels there was nothing more important than family. I told him I would be as family, closer than his own shadow.”

Annabelle leaned closer, her eyes wide. “What did he say?” Her voice was whisper on trembling lips.

“He said; a shadow I have, longer than one so young should have. Family, that’s something I need. Then he walked away and I followed, have been since that day.” Grace pulled a towel down from the rack and held it out to the shivering vixen.

“Wow, that’s…romantic. I know bards that tell a worse story.”

“That’s because they’re telling stories. I’m telling the truth.”

Annabelle wrapped the towel around her and sighed. “The master, will I meet him?”

It was Grace’s turn to freeze in thought for a second. “Not today, you won’t but soon. The master doesn’t leave the west wing that often, but when he does, it’s like Christmas to all of us.”

Annabelle dried her hair and pondered this. “Can I ask a question?”

“Just one,” Grace raised an eyebrow.

“Or a million,” Annabelle laughed. “Who is the master?”

“He’s the Duke of this land,”

“I figured that much.” Annabelle scoffed. “What I want to know is who is he?”

“Oh,” Grace feigned surprise. “His name is Maximus Oredain Thornehall. I call him Max or master. We all call him different things, but to all of us he’s master.”

“Are there other males here?”

“About seven years ago there were. Things didn’t go so well.”

“What happened?” Annabelle tied the towel around her and held it in the crook of her arm.

“What you would expect to happen when you introduce a group of young males to an all-female society?” There was venom in Grace’s words. “Things were fine at first, or so we thought. They preyed on the smaller and younger females. When it was all done, three raped; one left to die.”

“Did she?”

“Dr. Gilda is a miracle worker. She saved that young girl’s life.”

Annabelle swallowed hard, tears that formed at the edge of her eyes. “The master fought them?”

“No, I did. I killed all three of them in the main hall.” Grace didn’t shy away from her earnest confession. “The master was furious, he only wanted to help those boys and this is how he was repaid. That was when he became so reclusive, not wanting to face the females he’d put in danger by his decision.”

Annabelle touched her chest. “The poor man.”

“More than any of us knows, I’m afraid.”

“After that, almost fifty percent of the manor’s population left. I was scorned for my fierce scrutiny of the rapists. Those who banded behind me and the master were seen as monsters. It wasn’t until four years ago that we started getting newcomers.” Grace sat down on the low step looking up at Annabelle.

“Anyone can leave, whenever they chose?”

“Yes, everyone in the manor is permitted to leave whenever they wish. Some go weekly, others go everyday once their chores are done. It’s quite the walk to town however. The first few times you go, it’s best to take a guide. The woods are very dense and it’s easy to get lost.” Grace explained, opening the door just enough to untie the scarf on the handle.

“I can leave whenever I wish?” Annabelle cast the towel aside and retrieved her borrowed blouse.

Grace pulled her towel tight to her chest over her heart as if the small vixen had punched her there. Her lips drew tightly against her teeth. “You’re not a prisoner here. Do you want to leave?”

Annabelle’s back straightened as she was forced into pondering this question before she was ready. She bought a few seconds by focusing on tying the cord around her waist. Since she’d awakened in this place, the actual thought of going home hadn’t crossed her mind and now that she was asked, she didn’t have an answer. “I…I don’t know. I mean, someday of course. I’m sure my parents will be worried sick.”

“That’s understandable. No one here will stop you, Annabelle. If needs be, I’ll lead you there myself.” The hyena touched the vixen’s shoulder; she was amazed at how gentle the larger female could be. “But allow me to entreat you with a thought. The master invited you here as a way of reform. It’s a rare opportunity. Each and every one of us has a lesson to teach and a story to be told. I’ve learned so much from these women and even more from the master. I’ve taught these women so much. We’re a family by choice.”

Annabelle took a deep breath. “But do I even belong here?”

“From what I’ve seen, yes. But one day isn’t enough time to judge. I’ve seen twice as many women that live here come and go in my fifteen years with the master. Every one of them left better for the experience of being here. I’m not trying to convince you to stay; your life is your own. Just give us a few days.” Grace gave her a weak smile.

“I will, I promise.” Annabelle rested a hand against the hyena’s tight bicep, her black fingers a staunch contrast to the tan fur.

“Good.” Grace whispered before backing out into the hallway and starting towards her bedroom to get dressed.

Annabelle followed close behind her, smiling when she saw Patty further down the hall talking with Claudia. The opossum was laughing about something the badger said. Even though she’d not heard the joke, she felt herself grow giddy just from seeing them laughing. A week would pass like the breeze, she thought, and her parents wouldn’t worry about her too much before that amount of time passed. Annabelle was excited to learn more of this strange and wonderful society.


	5. Badgered

“…ne’re seen you lookin’ so gorgeous as ye did tonight, ne’re seen you shine so bright, you were amazin’.”

Annabelle flinched against Patty singing echoing the room when she walked in. The hefty badger was on her knees under the steamy stream giving herself an almost violent scrub down with a cooling mint scented soap. “An I ne’re saw that dress yer wearin’ or the highlights in yer hair that catch my eyes, I-”

“Morning,” Annabelle said, her voice was far more chipper than she felt.

The badger gasped and pushed her ruddy white locks out of her face to see the vixen. “Ye gave me quite a fright, lass. How are ye; how ye settling in?”

“Sorry about that,” Annabelle giggled, trying to hide the fact she was overjoyed that Patty stopped singing. Not only because the badger had a screechy voice but because her ears were extra sensitive to sounds this morning. “I’m doing well on both counts, thank you for asking.”

“That’s right fine to hear. Care to join me for a shower?”

“Not this morning, Grace is having me report to the kitchen for breakfast. I guess we’re doing chores today.”

“Folding ye right into the flock, is she? Grace is a dear, I just love her. She’ll probably start ye out with something easy, just until ye get the hang of things.” Patty went back to scrubbing her armpits feverishly.

Annabelle started brushing her teeth with Grace’s toothbrush. It was almost too wide to fit in her mouth but her options were limited as to what she could use right now. She stopped for a moment to watch Patty in the mirror. The badger was scrubbing her scalp with the same barbaric washing as she did to the rest of her body; it made the vixen’s head hurt.

“Patty?”

“Yes, dear,” The hulking woman dipped her head under the stream as ribbons of soapy water rained down the rest of her wide body.

“Which chores do you think are the hardest?”  
“Hands down, for me anyway, the chores in the basement have to be the worse. They’re so awful and laborious that Grace uses them as a form of punishment for those who break the rules. If the work wasn’t bad enough, it’s sweltering hot and darker than a banshee’s crotch down there,” Patty grunted and shook the water from her hair. When the badger looked up, they locked eyes in the mirror. “There’s also the barn. Ye have to take care of those witch horses. It’s so creepy, if ye ask me.”

“Are there any chores you like doing?” Annabelle asked, holding a wade of toothpaste under her tongue so her voice sounded weird.

Patty turned the showerhead off and moved to grab a pouch from the shelf just overhead of Annabelle raining water down on her. “If I have a choice,” Patty slumped down on the edge of the platform and fished out a hand rolled cigarette from the pouch she’d grabbed. “Ye don’t mind if I smoke, do ye?”

“Not at all,” Annabelle spit and wiped her mouth on the back of her hand.

There was a sharp snap, Annabelle watched Patty light her cigarette. Even her tobacco had the smell of mint woven into it. “I like working in the garden, nature and green always appealed to me. Although, I love doin’ laundry, it’s the only basement chore I don’t mind doin’.”

Annabelle giggled. “I thought everyone hated doing laundry.”

“Most do.” She said with a wisp of azure smoke. “Wanna hear a little secret?”

“Sure.” Annabelle turned to look at her, keeping her eyes averted from the badger’s modesty.

“It reminds me of my mum.” The badger took a long drag on the cigarette. “My mum use to wash laundry for the entire building we lived in. Now I was just a wee lass back then and every night after I was done with my lessons, I’d help her. We had so much fun together. I miss her, ye know.”

“Is she…?”

“Gods no,” Patty laughed before choking on a puff of smoke. “No, she’s just far away. She lives in Ireland with my da and brother, Patrick.” Annabelle internalized this for a second and Patty read her reaction perfectly. “Concerned because I don’t have a tragic story like the rest of them lasses, huh?”

“What? That would be preposterous, I mean, if it wasn’t true.” Annabelle said before they both shared in a laugh.

“I got excommunicated from the church my mum and da went to. They were quite embarrassed. I didn’t want to shame them anymore, so I packed up and left in the night. I couldn’t be any kinda cause of misery for ‘em.” Patty tucked the cigarette in the corner of her smiling mouth.

“Excommunicated, why?”

Patty rubbed the back of her neck. “Ah, jeez, nosy much?”

“You don’t have to answer me, grump.” Annabelle teased.

“I like girls.”

“Oh.”

“Oh’s right, lass. I’ve always been this way. I loved ‘em in the school yard, loved ‘em in the work place, especially loved them in the church when they wore their Sunday best.” Patty gave her ashes a flip. “It’s hard to find the right one when the good lord’s flock is judging you every step of the way.” Patty looked down at her ample breasts that rested on her rounded stomach; she took a low drag of her cigarette. “One day, Becky Meyer, this well stacked filly I’d known for years. She was sitting on the swing out back god’s house on Sunday.” Patty paused for effect as she let herself slip into the memory. “The sun caught her raven hair just right. The wind tossed her petticoat high enough for me to see them devilish pink bloomers. It made me wet, like I was Neptune’s whore, she did. I couldn’t take it anymore. I went right over to her and gave her a right good kiss, a kiss that would make my practice pilla jealous.”

Annabelle couldn’t help but touch her chest and sigh at the thought. “What happened?”

“She clawed my face, called me every name ye could imagine. Her pa, Father Grey Meyer, didn’t like that at all. Outed me in front of my parents, banned me from the church. Told me god turns his back on my kind. ‘My kind’, I said, ‘like I’m some kinda leprechaun or something’. He didn’t like that either. The next Sunday, my parents and brother went to mass and I stayed home to write scripture for the hopes of saving my immoral soul.”

A pink tongue traced across her dark lips to moisten them. “That night I overheard mum and da talking about the fire and brimstone ol’ Father Grey rained down. Apparently I was mentioned more than once. They were so ashamed of me and to hear my mum say that, it was like a dagger in my heart.” Patty sighed. “After everyone went to bed, I packed a bag and headed for the pier.” Patty finished her story and dropped the rest of her cigarette through the wood slats into the drain.

Patty got to her feet. “It just so happens, I stowed away on the same boat the master was on. Found myself dancing a right jig with the woman of my dreams, Grace. “Only thing is, she doesn’t know it yet. Afterwards, she introduced me to the master and I’ve been with them ever since. That was almost six years ago.”

“Have you ever tried talking to your parents?”

“Nah, there’s not much point in it. We McDonoughs only deal with things in absolutes.” Patty wrapped a towel around her that was almost too small to cover everything. “But I suppose if the offer was made, I wouldn’t turn it down.”

“I-”

The door opened suddenly and Lilian bounded in, the curvy rabbit had a grin from ear to ear on her face. “There you are, what are you doing with my girl?”

Annabelle watched as the rabbit did a full body bump against the badger and flailed her arms to regain her balance. “Morning to ye too, bun,”

Lilian laughed. “Good morning you two,”

Annabelle offered a wave. “It’s nice to see you again, Lilian.”

“Oh, thank you. It’s rather nice to be seen.”

“Ye slept well, I can tell by how bouncy you are.” Patty added.

“I did, I slept great. I ate a really good breakfast too. Carrot hash browns, what could be better?” Lilian pushed her tummy out and patted it. “I’m getting fat.”

“Oh boo hoo, ye waif, yer built like a twig.” Patty chortled.

“Talk like that will get you a spanking.”

“Alright, I think this is the optimal time for me to leave. It was a pleasure seeing you both again.” Annabelle was already at the door.

“Oh, it’s too bad yer leaving. I had fun talking with ye this morning. Let’s do it again.” Patty waved at the vixen.

“Maybe next time, all three of us can get acquainted better.” Lilian chimed in.

“I’d like that, you gals have fun and I’ll see you around.” Annabelle closed the door behind her.

Quickly she hurried to the top of the stairs and slid down the banister to the woven carpet at the bottom. Thanks to the badger’s engaging story, the vixen was already terribly late to meet with Grace. She hoped Grace was a little more patient about people being tardy to work.


End file.
